


Ianto’s first day on the innuendo squad

by amelia



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Early Days, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Ianto's First Day, Job Interview, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia/pseuds/amelia
Summary: Ianto shows up for his first day of work at Torchwood after capturing the pterodactyl, but he isn't expecting a job interview, especially one with this much flirting.





	Ianto’s first day on the innuendo squad

Dawn was a dim promise on the horizon as Ianto knotted his tie. Lisa’s lips were cold when he kissed her. Her machine buzzed, pulling and pushing air in her lungs, keeping her alive. “It’s my first day,” he whispered. “Wish me luck.” Her eyes fluttered, but he hadn’t expected more. 

His dress shoes clacked against the wood of the pier, and he was careful to move steadily, although the pain in his leg was distracting. The sky hung low with clouds but the gulls swooped by as if mocking him. 

He hadn’t known when to arrive, so he was here at 6am. Probably too early. He might have to wait an hour or two, but he didn’t want to give Captain Jack Harkness any time to reconsider the offer he’d hastily called out the night before— _“Hey, report for work first thing tomorrow!”_

He had barely rung the bell, when the door popped open. Jack looked alert, almost like he’d been waiting. “So, you’re an early riser,” said the Captain.

“I thought it best to come early.”

Jack smirked. “We have all day.” 

He waved Ianto inside the dim tourist office and down a dank corridor. It was a far cry from the glass and metal skyscrapers of Torchwood London with its tidy, sterile cubicles. There, all the tech and experiments had been stored behind white curtains and closed doors, neatly and hygienically, giving the impression that everything was contained and under control. 

Torchwood Three was none of these things. Torchwood Three was a musty basement, full of rat droppings, and a slightly burnt smell, like electronics that had short-circuited. 

The Captain pressed something on the wall, and a giant door opened with a horrible grinding. Ianto stepped in and looked up at the Rift tower glowing in the center of the room, the water rushing down from the fountain above them, and the electronics strewn around every available surface. No, things here definitely were not under control. All the better.

Since Jack was grinning at him, expectantly, Ianto felt compelled to comment.

“Both high tech and old fashioned,” Ianto observed. “Impressive, yet a little filthy. I think I like it.”

Jack smirked and raised his eyebrows. “Well, you didn’t have to make a personal comment,” he teased. 

It was then Jack met the famous Ianto Jones eyeroll. “I did say I liked it. Can I help you with your coat?”

“This way,” Jack nudged his elbow and led him up to the office, where aside from the computer, everything looked as anachronistic as the Captain himself. There were the old radios and paperbacks mouldering on metal shelves, the solid wood desk and fountain pens, and a massive coat rack in need of restaining. 

Jack stood still and straightened his arms, and Ianto reached up to slide the wool from his shoulders. 

“You’ve had a butler before.” Ianto observed, judging by the way Jack knew how to make it easier for him to pull off the coat, and looked so comfortable doing so. 

Jack’s smile broadened. “No need to sound jealous.” 

“No, sir.” Ianto wasn’t quite sure what to do with all this teasing. It was new. He hung up the coat, which was even heavier than it looked.

“Anyway, no one’s done that for me in a long time.” Jack gestured toward a chair, and Ianto sat down. 

“I hope it was good for you then, sir as it was for me.” Ianto answered drily, trying the teasing out for himself.

Jack stopped in his tracks. “You are cheeky!” Instead of walking around to sit in his chair, he came back around and sat on the desk in front of Ianto. “What kind of job were you expecting here exactly? Aside from, um, butlering? We are a world-class alien hunting organization, not Victorian gentry, you know.”

Ianto hadn’t quite settled in the chair, and he stood up again. “Executive assistant? And researcher, sir? I have library experience. Databases. Following up leads, tracking down alien tech. I’m very organized.”

“Hmm.” Jack nodded. 

“Shall I start with the coffee sir— you have an espresso machine?”

Jack tilted his head. “We do have a machine, but you’ll have to put it together first.”

“You haven’t taken the time to assemble it?”

“Well actually,” Jack crossed his arms, “the staff couldn’t figure out the instructions.”

Ianto considered this. “Your base is full of alien tech, and you can’t handle a mundane espresso machine?”

“Well exactly. Humans aren’t the best species at writing instructions. Plus this one was recovered from a thrift store. It sort of came with the package.”

“The package?” Ianto was getting used to feeling puzzled. Jack was wrapped in a mystery, one that he suspected he might not getting tired of unwrapping anytime soon.

“An alien was living inside it. To get the alien, we had to take the machine too. Sort of a two for one.”

“So. . . have you given it a good cleaning since, at least?”

Jack looked into the distance. “Well I think the little sprite did get a good coffee bath in the process, before we sent him home.”

“It might take me a while to make the coffee then, sir. But, uh, leave it to me.”

Jack chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he said, “If you don’t mind a little drip, we do have a normal coffee maker.” 

Ianto made a face. “When’s the last time that was cleaned?”

“Probably after Owen used it in a lab experiment some time ago.” Jack stood and ushered Ianto downstairs, to a dusty corner jumbled with storage boxes and kitchen supplies.

“Right.” Ianto rolled up his sleeves, then ducked as a shadow dropped above them. It screamed a shrill, raspy caw, and they looked up to see the pteranadon flying above. “You weren’t joking about giving her space to roam?”

"Nope!"

“How will you take care of her?” 

“Well,” Jack patted him on the shoulder. “I have a new butler who is keen for mischief.” 

"Right." After Ianto made the coffee, he returned to Jack’s desk with two cups. The Hub was still empty of other staff, and he was beginning to wonder if anyone else actually worked here. Jack stood up as he came back in. 

“Here you go, hot and steaming sir.” 

“You are, thanks.” Jack smirked, and carefully lifted a cup from his hands. Ianto suspected it was no accident that their hands brushed. “Are you ready?”

“For what, sir?”

“The job interview.”

“For the job I’m doing,” Ianto said, pointedly sipping his coffee.

“We haven’t figured out exactly what this job is yet. I can only drink so much coffee—and you can see we’re organized.” Jack ignored the lift of Ianto’s brow—"I want to know what else you’re capable of. What other research, what field experience? If last night was any indication--” 

“Afraid I’m not ready for a repeat of yesterday,” Ianto said, interrupting.

“It’s ok,” Jack nodded. “I don’t think we have room for another pteranadon either.”

Ianto laughed despite himself, “It’s just, I’m a bit bruised up, I’ll admit.”

Jack nodded. “Our doctor, Owen will be here soon. Do you want him to check you out?”

“No,” Ianto said, feeling even more awkward now. “You checking me out is enough, sir.”

Jack set down his coffee. “Where does it hurt?”

“My knee,” Ianto reached down his right side. "Here, and my leg. You did fall on me. And my ankle is a bit bungled. But I’m sure it will heal in a week or so.”

As if their flirting hadn’t been enough for one day, Jack leaned over and pressed his palm on Ianto’s thigh. Ianto groaned in pain and looked at the ceiling. Jack prodded at Ianto’s knee and he cringed and side stepped. Jack touched at his elbow. “You ok? Do you feel any tingling?”

“Well---” was all Ianto could say. Jack was close enough to feel his body heat. His breath was like mint toothpaste with those very white teeth. In the dim light, Ianto couldn’t see his stubble, but he was sure if he just reached up a hand, he could touch Jack’s cheek and he would know how soft those lips really were. 

“In your toes,” Jack said, pressing his hands against Ianto’s hips and thighs, “extremities? Like nerve pain?”

“Not that kind of tingling,” Ianto said, breathlessly.

“Tell me if this hurts.” Jack continued pressing palms gently against his upper chest, his shoulders, his arms. 

“There,” Ianto sucked in a breath as Jack touched another bruise, “And there. Sir,” he said, trying to recover some semblance of professionalism. “Is this how you always conduct a job interview?”

Jack smiled but didn’t quite remove his hands. “My professional opinion, I think you’ll be just fine. Take it easy a few days. No more rescuing captains from weevils or prehistoric flying reptiles, though?” 

“OK. That’s right out of the job description for a couple days,” Ianto agreed. 

Jack fingered Ianto’s tie nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m no good during job interviews.”

"That's okay," Ianto blinked. “Just let go of my tie, and get on your side of the desk?” 

“Right!” Jack said, startled, looking him in the eye. “Yes.” He stepped away, looked down, and sat in his chair. 

“Thanks, that should help with the, er, tingling.”

Jack chuckled. “I think you’ll do just fine here.”

**Author's Note:**

> This came about after I read this little 3-line dialog reposted from twitter and it screamed Jack and Ianto at me. I hope it was worth it! 
> 
> *nervously plays with tie*  
> "I'm sorry. I'm no good during job interviews."  
> That's ok, just let go of my tie and go on your side of the desk.


End file.
